


Chasing Ghosts

by pencilguin



Series: Fictober 2018 [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: [Spoilers for season 1] Hugh is dead and the war is over, and Paul is back on the Discovery, but he still can’t let go.





	Chasing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr as part of the Fictober 2018 challenge. Unbeta'd; I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there. 
> 
> Content warning: mention of (canon) character death.

Paul was well aware that this had a high chance of getting him into a lot of trouble, but he found himself not caring very much. The spore drive may be retired, but he was not. Starfleet had asked if he would like to remain with them, and considering that there had been nothing else left for him to do, no other place left in the universe to go, he had agreed. At least here were still _some_ people that he cared about. And all that was left of his and Straal’s research, other than the thriving new colony of Stella on a still unnamed moon. (Tilly had stammered and excused herself, saying that she was too nervous about naming an astronomical object and needed some time to think of an appropriate name.)

Alone in his lab in the dead of night, ship’s time, he leaned back against the chair in his chamber and settled his arms to his sides. After a few seconds, glowing spores filled the room all around him, and Straal’s apparatus activated and connected to his augments—

_The ones that Hugh had made for him._

No jump today. Just a connection to the network, a trip down the strands of mycelium. He closed his eyes.

 

When he opened them again, he found himself in a place that might be their quarters on the Discovery— 

_His quarters now._

—but a thick haze seemed to encompass him, blurring his surroundings nearly beyond recognition.

Then a figure stepped out of the fog right in front of him, getting closer and somehow the only thing not obscured at all, though somehow less dense, like clouds on a breeze.

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a croaked sound. Tears stung in his eyes.

“You came back.”

Paul swallowed, cleared his throat so that he could respond.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Hugh’s eyes turned sad.

“You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s also not healthy.” His voice was quiet, calm. But Paul could tell how much the words he had to say were hurting himself. “I’m dead, Paul. What if you never find a way to bring me back? You’ll have to let go.”

“I really don’t care.”

Hugh just looked at him for a few long seconds before he took another small step closer.

“I do want to come back, too, you know.” He sighed. “But please promise me that you won’t risk yourself for that.”

A moment of hesitation, then he lifted his ghostly hand and gently rested it on Paul’s cheek. Paul leaned into the touch instinctively, even as he could sense Hugh’s hand fading through his skin. He closed his eyes.

“Can you feel this?” Hugh quietly asked.

“Almost.”

He tried to focus on nothing but this moment, fighting back tears because this felt so close to having Hugh back, and yet so many million miles away from it.

“You know I can’t make that promise.”

He opened his eyes to see Hugh’s face soften, the concern no less clear than before, but joined by a deep, knowing fondness.

“I wish I didn’t. I could be more at peace in my death.”

Around him, Paul started to feel reality destabilizing. The connection wouldn’t hold much longer.

Hugh leaned in and closed his eyes, but instead of his lips he reached up to kiss Paul’s forehead.

“I’ll always love you, Paul, whether you save me or not.”

And Paul _knew_ it, saw nothing but that in his face, and then the connection broke.

 

The last of the spores’ light faded, and he was back in his lab, alone.

Barely audible even to himself, he whispered, “I love you, too.”


End file.
